


Becomes the Truth

by flamewarflipsides



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions, Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: 4F, Elevator, F/M, Songfic, Suspense, Team Plasma, dojo - Freeform, ghost - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 02:58:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamewarflipsides/pseuds/flamewarflipsides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The woman under the dojo says "No, you're not the one" to everyone she meets. A traveler from Unova with ghosts of his own thinks it just might be him. As he works up the nerve to get into the elevator, what will he find, and what does the boy with the claucher have to do with it? Suspense 4F for LiteraryFanFiction. Shippy. Accidental apologies to Michael Jackson</p>
            </blockquote>





	Becomes the Truth

“No, you’re not the one.”

That’s what they say she says.

I marvel at the building, dwarfed by the rest of the skyline, the aroma of galettes wafting to me from down the road. They’re almost enough to overpower the smell of the city, or worse, the smell of me. I never noticed my scent before; before, I was Natural. Now all I can smell is dye, even a month out.

I step inside, ignoring the people in the lobby. A boy tries to approach me, holding a Claucher to his chest, but I brush past. I can’t afford to lose my nerve.

A boy like him told me about this place, first: a diminutive child with a girl’s bob, walking alongside a boy who was more Snorlax than man. They weaved up the trail ahead of me like helixes, talking about how their friend’s scare in Lumiose was better than the ghost story they’d just heard. The androgynous one recounted her tale: the flashing lights, the seizing elevator, the cold presence behind her back. And then the girl sighing: “No, you’re not the one.”

I asked him what his friend looked like, joking about keeping people who looked like her away. “Oh, she has long hair, and she ties it in a ponytail near the end. And she just got a black baseball cap.”

The older boy was the one who said what I hoped they weren’t thinking. “Oh, you mean like that Hero guy from Unova?”

I climb into the elevator. When the doors close, so do my eyes, tight.

I wandered Kalos, asking everyone if they’d heard about the ghost in Lumiose City. Many had, but only some had seen her themselves. Hats formed a plurality of the encounters, light and long hair making up the rest. Green isn’t a natural allele in Kalosians, it seems.

The elevator dings, and I open my eyes, stepping out.

I only came after asking one of my own. She picnicked with a Doublade near where I’d met those boys, and recognized me despite my brown hair. She’d seen the ghost; she tugged at the knit cap on her head as she spoke. “It looked like her, my Lord,” she said, “Just dyed black.”

The lights flicker, on and off. A chill races through me; my arms prickle. I can feel cold breath on my neck, inverted but familiar. Arms wrap around me, and icy claws sink in.

“You’re the one.”

My heart races in my chest, and I find myself desperately screaming names: hers, my dragon’s, hers, my father’s… Ice seems to stab at my neck.

Then she’s gone, as quick as she came. The room is warm again. It’s an office, but it looks lived in. I see a desk with a picture frame.

I reach out, hands shaking, to look at it.

Her hair is black, but she’s the one, smiling sadly. She holds a baby with brown hair, but my gray eyes. They’re with a Claucher.


End file.
